Chapter 12 #2
What Knox said about friends kept coming back to Lottie’s mind all evening and stuck there when she crawled into bed that night.
Moonlight drifted through the lacy curtains over the small window in the bedroom end of her trailer and left shifting patterns on the ceiling.
One looked like the silhouette of a young woman.
The air vent moved the lace a little, and it turned into an old woman.
That made her think of how much her mother had aged right before her eyes, and yet she had not seen it until that very day.
Prissy jumped up onto the bed, turned around a few times, and then settled down onto the pillow where she always slept.
Lottie reached over and rubbed the cat’s head.
“I know you are always here for me, but Knox is a different kind of friend. I was always a loner. In college, even a few of the introverted girls shed their inhibitions and became party animals, but not me. I had a goal in mind. Get the education over with to please my folks and then build houses.”
Prissy meowed, slapped a paw over her eyes, and went to sleep.
“I don’t know if I’m happy with being just friends with Knox or if…” she whispered and closed her eyes.
She dreamed about him—again—that night. She was standing in front of the bathroom mirror and rubbing a little extra face cream into the wrinkles in her face.
Knox came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He told her she was beautiful and sang part of the old song titled “Forever and Ever, Amen.” The lyrics talked about him loving her even if all her hair fell out.
She slowly turned around and laid her face on his chest, and then that damned rooster started crowing.
She left the beautiful dream and opened her eyes to see that the sun was only a tiny sliver of orange and barely sending any light at all through her bedroom window.
She jerked her pillow out from under her head and crammed it down tightly over her face, leaving only her nose clear.
But no matter how tightly she closed her eyes, she couldn’t bring back the dream or capture the feeling she had.
Cheeto crowed again, this time longer and louder, and woke Prissy up. The cat growled and jumped up on the headboard. She stuck her head between the curtains and made that eerie sound in her throat of when she chased a cricket or that one time when she cornered a field mouse in the trailer.
“I know, baby girl,” Lottie said. “I would gladly bring Cheeto’s pretty head to you on a platter for breakfast, but Knox kind of likes him.
But if this keeps happening, I’ll turn you outside to put an end to that bird.
I could have slept another hour, but now that you are awake, I’ll have to get up and feed you.
Or you might claw your way through that window to end all crowing forevermore. ”
When the noise stopped, Prissy hopped down from the bed and headed for the kitchen.
Lottie threw back the covers and peeked out the window.
The rooster was sitting on the side mirror of her truck, looking at his reflection and seeming to dare that bird to try to take his new place in the world.
He threw his head back to get enough air to crow again.
Before he could get it out, Knox grabbed him and carried him away.
“Why couldn’t you have done that before he woke me up?” Lottie grumbled as she filled Prissy’s food and water bowls.
She made a small pot of coffee, poured herself a cup, and carried it out to the front steps to watch the sunrise since she was already awake.
The dream that Cheeto had so rudely interrupted came back to her mind.
She wanted to know what happened next. For that matter, she would have loved to have seen the past, to have known if they were married, or still friends—or maybe they’d grown old together as friends with benefits.
Suddenly, she needed to see the whole show.
“Damn it!” she swore under her breath. “I don’t know how far in the future—it seemed like it could have been an anniversary—but we were more than friends.”
“What are you fussing about?” Knox asked as he rounded the side of the trailer and handed her a plate piled up with breakfast burritos. “I brought a snack before we have doughnuts with the guys. I’ll share if I can steal a cup of coffee.”
She fought back a blush and hoped he hadn’t heard what she was mumbling about. “You’ve made enough for an army. Sure you don’t want to take them to the rec hall and share with all the guys?”
“Honey, at least three of those are mine. That wouldn’t leave enough for the others to even have one each. Now about that coffee?”
“Go on in and help yourself. Is this an apology for that blasted bird of yours waking me up so early?”
“No,” he said as he stepped around her. “I told him to do that so I could have an early breakfast with you.”
“That’s not a very good friend,” she growled.
“Hey, now, I made the burritos. All you did was get up in time to eat them and put on a pot of coffee,” he countered.
“Are we arguing?” she asked.
“Everyone argues sometimes,” he answered. “But couples usually kiss and make up. Are you ready for that?”
Before she could answer, Micah came on over toward them. “Good mornin’. Did Knox’s rooster wake you up, too?”
“Yep, he did,” Lottie said. “Want a burrito? It’s a while until Jack brings doughnuts to the rec room.”
Micah reached for one and then pulled his hand back. “Did you make them?”
“Nope. Knox did.” Lottie handed Micah the plate, swallowed the bite she had in her mouth, took a sip of coffee, and leaned over to kiss on Knox’s lips. “ Does that settle the argument?”
“With him or me? What were we fighting about?” Micah took a burrito, bit into it, and handed the plate back to her.
“With Knox, not you.”
“This is very good. You want to make breakfast every morning in the rec hall?”
“No, thank you,” Lottie said.
Knox winked at Lottie. “I do believe that settles the question. FYI, burritos and coffee together make for good kisses.”
“I’m leaving now and giving y’all some early morning privacy, but first, one for the road,” Micah grabbed another and headed toward the rec hall.
“What is morning privacy?” Knox asked.
“Micah’s definition and mine would be two different things for sure,” she answered.
Knox wiggled his eyebrows. “I can figure out what Micah is referring to, but what is yours?”
“Not being wakened by a rooster crowing,” she answered. “But then I won’t complain if I get breakfast burritos out of the deal.”